


I Want Him

by Rozalia



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Bodhi Rook Needs a Hug, Comfort/Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-13 03:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10505256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozalia/pseuds/Rozalia
Summary: Twin red sashes crossed tight over the dancer's chest, loose white harem pants covering his legs. The remaining expanse of his body was dusted with gold and glittering, the shimmering powder accentuating the lithe muscles of his arms and stomach. He seemed to glow, coppery and god-like. Ignoring everything around him, he became a radiant creature, a hypnotizing spirit. A change in light, a shift in form. Now he was a celestial being, a force all his own, something that descended from the cool desert sky just as it faded into dusk.Captain Andor allowed a shade of detached interest to bleed into his expression. Casually he leaned back, enjoying his whiskey. Jyn gave him a dark smile, sure their thoughts were the same.This one, he wasexactlywhat they were looking for.





	1. Golden Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Golden Dancing_ completely rewritten, now with double the evil and added mystery! Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Edit: Ugh, why do I hate this chapter so much. _Kisses and Wants_ was so easy and perfect!
> 
> Edit: Better...

It was a twisted desire that brought them to the club. They were here on a mission, but it wasn't for the Alliance, not really. This was a personal project, something Jyn and Cassian embarked upon on their own.

Though they didn't need it, they came down from the hotel with a cover already in place. 

Cassian Andor was simply a Captain, Imperial or Alliance, rogue or some sort of alias, it didn't matter. No one worried about those kinds of questions here. Jyn Erso became his unnamed mistress… a lover, a wife, maybe even a very promiscuous friend. Mostly they were just themselves, if a bit simplified, a bit distorted.

Sliding into a booth in the back, curved into the corner of the room, the couple took off their jackets, set down their drinks, and made themselves comfortable. They could be here a while, but for now they were content to sit and wait... and watch.

The owner of the club caught sight of them not long after they entered this enigmatic place. He was a greasy man, hair slicked back, a wart on the bridge of his nose. His face contorted into a sick looking smile and Jyn wished her dress had room to hide more than just a blade. As he sat down opposite from her, the woman moved forward like a snake, addressing him playfully, almost conspiratorially.

"The Captain is looking for someone," she said.

Captain Andor had started looking because she'd asked him to, but by now Jyn was sure he wanted this almost as much as she did. They were here for someone special. They had planned it out for weeks, arranging the where and when and how, discussing exactly who it was they both wanted to find.

"Oh?" brothel owner asked. "What kind of someone?"

When Cassian gave no response Jyn began to describe the type of man they were searching for. 

"Dark..." She ran her hands up her slim emerald dress, giggling, "and _lean_." 

There were many different kinds among the patrons of the club. The one they were looking for wouldn't be among them.

Tonight, they had come for a slave. 

Tregillis was a paradox, a place where truth was distorted beyond distinction and reality was full of lies. Here, there was no need for the illusion of moral decency.

"Isn't that right Captain?" Jyn's voice was sultry, persuasive. "We're going to be _very_ picky tonight, aren't we."

They had to be, if they wanted this to work. They knew that this was where they would meet their target. There was nowhere else he could be. Jyn didn't think she could stand another night of waiting. 

"We've got all kinds here" the brothel owner said. 

Jyn noticed that he became at least twice as ugly surrounded by any of the beautiful people he owned. He pulled a girl over, her black skin tinted blue. She was young, much too young for a life like this, but she acted experienced enough. Pressing her breasts together provocatively she draped herself over her master. With a fake little laugh she toyed with the lekku that curved down her head and over her chest, pretending to be coy.

Both Jyn and Cassian ignored her, still scanning the room. 

In the center was a large stage where nearly a dozen slaves danced, flirty and erotic under a kaleidoscope of colors. More were scattered about off to the sides, in pairs or alone. Few wore collars, if they did it was only for show, but they were still obviously slaves, obviously trapped here, barefoot, afraid behind their masks of desire. 

None of them matched the familiar, memorized image of their mark.

Music filled the air slow and languid, distinctive and exotic. The tables were cast in purple shadows, giving a mirage of privacy. Clouds of spicy incense drifted overhead, smoke underneath soft lights. 

As one song ended a simple melody began. The whine of some otherworldly instrument brought new dancers up to the empty platforms near the walls. Inspecting them and faces only half glimpsed before... and there... that had to be him.

Turned away and across the room, the slave was already beginning to preform. Really, they couldn't be sure, not without a closer look. So far, though, he was the only one here who seemed like he might match. 

Jyn pressed her bare thigh against the Captain's. He made a thrumming sound of echoed agreement, observing with clear intent.

The pleasure slave's hair was long and black, almost as black as the space between the stars. It was tied back loosely but as he moved his hands glided up his body to free it, letting it fall in soft waves to frame his face. Under the lights his olive skin was tinted crimson, violet, and sapphire blue. He was a nebula, astral and brilliant. 

Although few others noticed this slave, he was captivating to the couple. This boy didn't contain the false lust of the other pleasure slaves, didn't pretend to be happy and content. His dance spoke of truth, not the lie of the situation, of this place. Lost to the world, eyes closed, he was in a dimension crafted out of pain. Whether that was here and now or somewhere else entirely, not even the slave seemed to know.

Twin red sashes crossed tight over the dancer's chest, loose white harem pants covering his legs. The remaining expanse of skin was dusted with gold and glittering, the shimmering powder accentuating the lithe muscles of his arms and stomach. He seemed to glow, coppery and god-like. Ignoring everything around him, he became a radiant creature, a hypnotizing spirit. A change in light, a shift in form. Now he was a celestial being, a force all his own, something that descended from the cool desert sky just as it faded into dusk. 

Captain Andor allowed a shade of detached interest to bleed into his expression. Casually he leaned back, enjoying his whiskey. Jyn gave him a dark smile, sure their thoughts were the same.

This one, he was _exactly_ what they were looking for.

The owner of the club followed the Captain's gaze, still focused on his target. "Or if Twi'lekki's don't quite suit you..."

The pleasure slave arched elegantly with the music, hips swaying with the flute, torso pulsing with the staccato beat of drums. Bangles on his ankles and wrists jangled as he moved, making elaborate, intricate gestures with his hands. The rhythmic flexing of his abs caused the light to catch on a mesh of small metal disks tied around his waist, their clinking sound turning his entire body into an instrument of passion. 

The slave danced to tell a story and in doing so he became his own song. 

It was poetic in an anguished, excruciating sort of way. His motions seemed to tear at the soul, tragic and painfully beautiful, the melancholy cry of the music somehow deeply alluring. The dance was seductive even, the pleasure slave becoming a somber siren in the night. 

"Go get the new boy," the brothel owner urged the blue-black girl now sitting in his lap.

She had to wait till the end of his dance to get the slave's attention. When she did it was as if a spell had been broken, his entire attitude shifting in seconds. Worry was clear in the language of his body now. He gave them a sideways glance from across the room, then another, eyebrows raised when he saw the two of them. Instead of being consumed by sorrow, now he was eaten up by fear. 

They could see him ask hurried, hushed questions of the girl, whose response consisted mostly of haughty looks and unconcealed jealousy. She sneered in contempt at his apprehension but helped him to quickly shed the bracelets and belt in the almost silence between songs. Tin pieces clanked together loudly as they were set on the stage, noise blending into the ambiance of the room. Sharp, metallic sounds mixed easily with the murmur of low conversation, drinks being poured, and the twittering laughs of the other pleasure slaves as they entertained.

The closer he got the less graceful the dancing boy became. His hands fiddled with his hair, his clothes, twitched at his sides. He was no longer quite so ethereal, but there was still something enchanting about the distress written across his features. 

"He's _perfect_." Jyn all but purred, seeking out the endless depths of those kohl lined eyes. They were dark pools of emotion in his already expressive face, full of despair and something else unnamed. As he neared they darted around the room, searching for an escape. 

"Nala said you needed something, M-Master?" the slave asked when he reached their table. He was practically wringing his hands together with nerves, his shoulders hunched up and turned away. 

"I...I didn't know if I should get changed or, or, um..." He made a halting motion backwards. 

"I could get Rumiani?" he added desperately.

The brothel owner only laughed, loud and cheerful, one more devil trying to throw this angel into a new, torturous hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Starting layout for whatchamacallit thank you's or whatever. I know I don't have to share all this shit with you, but well, if anybodies curious and/or wants some inspiration of their own... also a place to put it all so I can come back to it later. In progress and possible spoilers? ahead.
> 
> Whole Work:  
> influenced by kinkmeme thread, certain work, blah blah blah  
>   
>  _Golden Dancing:_ photos, links, etc. [ crimson](http://www.davidellis.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/Riz_1.jpg), [ sapphire](http://www.davidellis.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/P18_A_CHRIS_EUBANK-104554Riz.jpg), [ I don't think I saw this at the time, but hell yes, ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/4f/93/41/4f9341f710eb6ee4e3279be949aac824.png)... um... I watched a bunch of belly dancing videos, as well as tried to find out more about traditional Indian and Pakistani dance. Oddly there wasn't much out there, especially on dances that did not portray happiness and joy. Bodhi's dance would contain a bunch of mudras (those fancy hand and body gestures) that I imagined told the story of his experience of Bor Gullet as well as just his overall mood, situation, reaction, etc, etc. There is one for dispelling fear that I imagined he would use, as well as maybe "calling on the earth as witness" and others to both ground him and remind him of the past. It would be a sort of meditation for him that I imagine he learned, at least partially, on Jedha. His body remembers the motions even if his mind does not.  
>  _Kisses and Wants:_  
>  _Touches and Needs:_  
>  _Orders and Obedience:_


	2. Kisses and Wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, _please!_ give me some constructive criticism on this. Comments are my lifeblood. Anything you notice, you like, sounds weird, is boring, etc, anything at all, I love you for  <3\. 
> 
> There are quite a lot of things someone could deem "easter eggs" in this, or references, or subtle foreshadowing. Whatever you want to call it, let me know if you think you've spotted some! I hope people notice bits of it. 
> 
> thx for reading!

"Talks too much, but he's got a pretty mouth, don't he."

The Captain made a noncommittal noise, eyes still locked on the slave. He tried to think back to the few photos in Bodhi Rook's file; tried to match the anxious slave boy before him with the clearest picture they had. It had shown a young man posing in front of cases of cargo, a pair of useless goggles perched on top his head. Cassian remembered dark hair, a short, scruffy beard and a straight, thin nose.

This slave shared some of Rook's features, although he was clean shaven and looked younger, more delicate than the man Captain Andor had in mind. The pilot had worn a look of determination in that photo, defiance there that this slave seemed to lack. He gave no resistance as the brothel owner grabbed his arm with one meaty hand and pulled him down. Stumbling into his master's lap, the boy gave a surprised squeak. He barely caught himself, one hand twisted behind him, still trapped in the man's grip, the other catching on the table just before his face could. He was panting, hair mused and eyes screwed shut.

"Pretty virgin ass too," the brothel owner added, swatting the slave there, pushing him towards the pair of paying clients. "Go on," his master said. "Show the man how good you can be."

The slave crawled the rest of the way over his owner and into the booth. He was shaking everywhere now, black hair a shivering curtain over his face.

Captain Andor was beginning to entertain more serious doubts about their information. There was a slight similarity, if he squinted, but even Rook's sister back in Jedha City had described him as "tense and hot-headed." Tense he could see, but in Captain Andor's experience faces grew harder with pain, never softer. This couldn't be the same person as that Imperial pilot. This was just another man fallen on hard times, someone else forced into a life of suffering. One more soul Cassian would be forced to hurt instead of save.

The slave took a moment to collect himself before sliding in closer and placing a hand on the Captain's knee. He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge the man's existence beyond his physical presence, and focused solely on the task he'd been given.

Cassian watched carefully as trembling fingers trailed up his leg. He saw them curl inward, brushing over his inner thigh, but he didn't move. He stayed silent and still, letting the boy get dangerously close. It wasn't until skin grazed the inseam of his pant leg that Captain Andor latched his hand around a skinny wrist.

"Did I say you could touch me there?" he growled, voice pitched low, an almost threat. It shocked the slave enough to get him to finally look up, directly into the Captain's steely gaze.

"N-no sir. Sorry sir. I thought…" round eyes flinched away. "I, um..."

There was a long tense moment where the slave was unsure of how to proceed. His orders were to please, but also not to touch, not that place other clients forced him too.

"May I..." His eyes met the Captain's again, holding them this time, searching for something. "May I kiss you?"

Captain Andor paused, memorizing the boys features, comparing and analyzing. Slowly, he loosened his grip. "You may."

He expected the slave to lean in then, maybe starting with a chaste kiss on the Captain's cheek, little stuttering breaths against his skin. Or maybe there'd be a quick spike of bravery, the pleasure slave pressing against him all at once, kiss deep and urgent before falling back into his fear. Either way, Cassian figured he'd have to take the lead soon, force himself on this slave if the boy couldn't bring himself to do more without being made to.

The slave didn't kiss him, not yet, and instead only gently pulled the Captain's hand away from his own thin wrist. He glanced up but didn't falter. Cassian didn't know what the slave had been looking for in his eyes before, but he knew now what he saw in the slave's. It looked worryingly similar to hope.

As the slave turned to examine the hand he cupped in both of his own, holding it like some precious thing, Captain Andor kept his features carefully blank. Cassian knew his hands to be blood-stained and littered with scars, but this slave looked at them with a sort of reverence. Leaning down he pressed his lips, soft but firm, against the Captain's knuckles.

He did this once, twice, a third time, and Captain Andor allowed his brows to twitch up the tiniest bit. The boy looked back up at him through thick lashes, checking to make sure he wasn't too far out of line. It was daring of him, to do something at all unexpected, to dance around obedience like this. Or, Cassian wondered, maybe the slave really was just too nervous to kiss the Captain outright.

Even so, it was clever too, this little bit of foreplay. It gave the slave some more time, let him calm his nerves maybe. It even gave him the smallest bit of control, a rare, forgotten thing for someone like this. Most important to Cassian however, was the fact that it meant the Captain might commit a few less morally questionable acts before requesting to see the pleasure slave in private.

"Do _I_  need permission Captain?" Jyn asked seductively, referring to the kiss. She was stroking his chest with pretend passion, keeping up their lovers act. One hand ran up his neck to the back of his head, pulling him towards her. Cassian let her draw his attention away, her teeth in his lip, her nails in his skin. He hoped the distraction would sooth the slave somewhat, no longer under so many pairs of eyes.

Jyn was quieter now, moving in close. She breathed hot against the shell of the Captain's ear. "You hurt him and I'll make sure you regret it."

Cassian knew she still didn't trust him, not with this, and tried not to hate that she thought so little of him. She thought he would choose to break this boy, ignoring the fact that she had brought them here, that this whole play was her idea. If they wanted to even speak to the slave, wanted to get any information out of him at all, hurting him might simply be what was _necessary_.

Feeling slender fingers turn his arm over, Captain Andor looked back. The slave was adding a kiss to the base of the Captain's thumb, than another, pressed delicately against his wrist. Cassian watched fascinated as those same slim fingers slid up his forearm and behind his elbow, pulling it away. More kisses where the slave's hand had ghosted past, those dark, soulful eyes looking up at him. The slave gave an experimental touch with the tip of his tongue. A few more little tastes, and then there was a long, leisurely lick up to the crook of the Captain's arm. Cassian could feel the warm, slick metal of a piercing glide over his skin.

Oh.

 _That_ was new.

It had to be, if this was their mark. Definitely not regulation. Force, cargo pilots were barely low ranking enough to have their hair as long as Rook did, a bar through his tongue certainly wouldn't have made it past inspection too.

Captain Andor tangled his free hand in that silky hair, pushing it out of the way to get a better look at the slave's face. He was getting bolder now, kisses turning into little nips against the Captain's bicep, his shoulder, playing along the curves of his muscles. Those once tentative fingers were griping at his shirt, twisting and toying, but carefully staying above the waist.

The slave remembered his orders.

To his right he could see Jyn take a slow sip of her Nectarwine, eyeing them both appraisingly. The boy put on as much as a show as she did. When the slave leaned back his eyes looked hazy, pupils blown wide, and Cassian could pretend that it was lust. It made the next part almost easy.

The Captain let his gaze slowly sweep over the pleasure slave's body, that half bare chest, those parted thighs. He drank in the sparkling skin of those long thin limbs. Captain Andor let his eyes linger on the lines of the slave's neck, the hollow of his throat, watched how his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"I want him," Cassian ground out, voice hoarse.

He forced himself to look away from the dark mystery next to him to meet the brothel owner's eyes.

"I want him for the night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> cue evil laugh
> 
> so this is my first fanfic, the first work I've ever really shared outside of English class, so there is tons I want to say, people I want to thank, etc. etc. but I'm going to be late for work. See you in a couple hours, please read and comment in the mean time.  
> ~~~~  
> I'm baaack!
> 
> So I had this whole note written out but it was ridiculously long. ~~I guess some of the thanks and everything is going to have to wait for the comments and for the start of chapter 2~~ _Golden Dancing_ endnotes because I don't want anyone to have to scroll past this whole mess to leave me Kudos. I'm greedy like that.
> 
> Anyone who correctly guesses what Bodhi was looking for in Cassian's eyes gets all of my love and, if it's perfected by then, the next chapter! (Chapter 4 will be in Bodhi's perspective and answers this) Also, bonus points, do you think he found that thing that he was looking for?
> 
> Edit: I _think_ this chapter is just about perfect. I should be done messing with it.


	3. Touches And Needs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this might need more editing
> 
> moved a paragraph.

The slave owner was obviously pleased, a slimy grin stretching wide across his face.

"Fuckin that tight virgin hole is gonna cost you extra," he said.

"No."

Cassian pulled his fingers out of the boys hair so he could press them against red, bite-swollen lips. The slave gave a little gasp and Cassian pushed inward, feeling the hard metal on the pleasure slave's tongue. The Captain smiled and Cassian felt sick.

"Tonight I want his mouth."

Flinching, the slave shut his eyes, but his face was still easy enough to read. He managed to look somehow both pained and relieved at the Captain's words, but not at all surprised. 

"Alright, but if you change your mind you'll pay more in the morning," the brothel owner added, shrugging.

With a nod, Captain Andor slid the credits across the table to pay. He gave the slave's arm a squeeze. Jyn swayed a bit when she stood, pretending she was just a little drunk off shared arousal and half-decent wine. She seemed almost giddy with excitement, acting happy it was her turn with the couple's brand new toy. Pulling the slave out of the booth she giggled, petting at his arms and face. 

She caught him when he tripped, cooing into his hair and attempted to show the boy that she was on his side. Where the Captain was cold and distant, Jyn tried to be close and warm for the slave. She would hold him up if he needed it, keep him safe if she could, and try to make this easier on both of them.

Cassian didn't know if Jyn's intentions were born out of hope, desperate to hear that message from her father, or true compassion for the slave, but he was glad at least one of them could do something to try and help at the moment. 

The slave spent the short elevator ride kneeling on the floor, hands shaking even pressed against his legs. He was quiet and compliant and didn't look up.

In the hall Captain Andor made sure to keep a palm on the boys back in case he decided to bolt. The slave might try to fight them too, but running seemed more likely with this one. Cassian doubted he was truly scared enough to try either of those insanely stupid things, but the Captain wasn't about to let him if he was. They already had enough to deal with tonight.

The slave eyed them warily, trying to assess the danger he was in. Jyn draped herself over both of them, still laughing and fumbling at their clothes in case someone happened upon the three of them in the hall.

" _Captain…_ " she wined from the other side of the slave. "You have to _share_."

Still worried about the boy, she probably wanted a chance to comfort him, reassure him as much as she could before leaving him alone with the Captain.

"You'll get your turn." Captain Andor said, voice flat, but he let her pull the slave away while he swiped the passkey at the lock. It gave a little beep, tiny light flashing green, and the door unlocked with a snick. Before it was even fully closed behind them the slave began to speak. 

"I- _Ah!_ "

Captain Andor turned and grabbed him, pushing him hard against the wall. He hit it with a thunk.

"Didn't give you permission to speak either, did I?" The Captain's eyes were narrowed, challenging. 

Back before Jedha they had thought the pilot might be a threat, a trap. The whole city had blown up that day, Jyn, Cassian, and the Temple Guardians nearly caught in the destruction. Bodhi Rook could still be dangerous, even like this.

The slave opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head to answer. His owner had said he was a talker, so complete silence was probably a lot to ask for, but Captain Andor didn't need it for very long. They needed safety, privacy, _then_ they needed him to talk.

One hand pressed into the slave's sternum, the other to the side of his head, the Captain had him boxed into the corner of the room. They stood their like that for a long moment, the boy's chest rising and falling in quick succession, his skin almost feverous under Captain Andor's fingertips.

Cassian and Jyn had searched for bugs earlier, but the two of them were both too paranoid not to look again, not when they could be so close to their goal. They needed the boy and the room clear before they could even start to ask this maybe slave, maybe pilot who he really was.

Jyn was still behind them, her brows furrowed slightly at the Captain's harshness. Waving her off to go check the back Cassian wondered if he would have worn the same look in her place. 

Maybe it was overkill. The slave was probably just going to say how he'd do anything they liked. He'd say he'd be good, that he wanted to _please_ them. He'd say it and fall to his knees and _try to._

No. There were any number of horrible things the slave could have been about to give voice to a moment ago. Unless he knew who they were, none of that would have blown their cover. Captain Andor was glad he'd silenced him anyway.

Studying the slaves face again now that he was close, Cassian remembered the fear he'd seen when he first met those exceptionally expressive eyes. He felt a bit more guilt run through his veins. The boy still looked so afraid, maybe more so now, his eyes diverted, submissive after the Captain's intimidation. Cassian wanted to hold, protect him from this awful reality. Strangely, Captain Andor found himself still wanting to kiss him, even though he knew that would only make things worse. 

"Shhh, I'm not going to hurt you." Cassian soothed, leaning in close. He ran his hand down the slave, trying to subtly check for weapons or wires. 

There wasn't much to hide under the skimpy top but Captain Andor couldn't help the impulse. His fingers slid easily under the smooth red fabric before his thumb caught on another piercing, this time through the slaves nipple. The boy bit back half a whimper and shuddered. 

_Force,_ they must be tender.

"You're alright, you're alright, shh." Cassian eased up somewhat, removing his hand from the wall and placing it on the slave's shoulder, trying to be a little less threatening. He could feel the skin there prickling with goosebumps.

Abandoning all pretense of feeling him up, Cassian crouched down to check the slave's legs, quickly running both hands over them. If they were being watched all anyone would see was a couple being extra careful with the night's entertainment. They would see the truth: two people who wanted to be sure they were alone before they did anything more interesting with their guest.

Captain Andor stood to turn the slave around. Maybe he was a little too rough, not used to being gentle for this. Chest forced against the wall, the boy let out the breath he was holding with a grunt. 

"I-I thought you said..."

"I said for you to be quiet." Captain Andor snapped, sounding more annoyed than he really was.

It took him a second to realize what the pleasure slave was thinking, quivering under his grasp. Cassian had forgotten what it felt like, to be that helpless, at the complete mercy of someone else's will. As he remembered, it became clear exactly, _obviously,_ what the boy thought the Captain wanted to do to him, right there next to the door. 

Suddenly exhausted, Cassian sighed. He tipped his head forward to rest above the slave's shoulder. The marble was blessedly cool against his forehead but did little to ease the headache forming at his temples. 

"I'm just checking you for weapons," He murmured into hot, golden skin. "That's all. Ok?"

Next to him he felt the slave give a tense nod, not daring to speak a third time. The slave's heart was rapid and erratic under Cassian's fingers, and he wondered again at the number and variety of drugs the boy might be on.

Finishing with a quick pat down of the back of the slave's trembling legs, Captain Andor led the boy, the man who might be their mark, farther into the suite. The bedroom was at the back and Cassian knew this would be the first place Jyn cleared. He'd told her to.

Under the bright light of the hotel room now, not pressed up close in the doorway or watching him dance from a dim little corner downstairs, Cassian could see that the slave's outfit was almost translucent. The fabric was sheer everywhere except where it counted. Realizing all that had just occurred had been rather unnecessary, he sighed again, rubbing at his face.

"Stay." 

Captain Andor doubled back to check the entrance, trusting the slave would follow that simple command. If he didn't there was nowhere for him to go. The windows locked tight and if he tried to run Cassian and Jyn would both be in his way. It would be easy enough to catch him, although it would be an annoyance to have to tie him down.

Soon they might be able to start asking questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha, fooled you with that chapter title didn't I. Oh I just want to get to ~~Chapter 4~~ (was 3, now 5 lol) already, it's my second favorite so far. There's _hand feeding!_
> 
> Edit: Seriously though, give me comments people. I'd really like someone to at least guess at some of those references I talked about. Next chapter answers the question I posed at the end of _Kisses and Wants_. You don't really think I'm gonna give you more of this beautiful fic for free, do you? (I mean, yes, I am, but that's beside the point.)
> 
> Talk to me guys! It's not like I can talk to anyone in real life about this fic. (small shame... v. small)  Tell me all the things. All of them! 
> 
> Please no attacks on mine or anyone else's personal character, though. That's just rude.


	4. Orders and Obedience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine, you can have more even though none of you answered my question from _Kisses and Wants_. :)
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Pearl_Of_Wisdom, Bae_B_8, doe_eyes, Spacehoe, Teleny, and one more Anonymous reader for being so wonderful and putting up with the wait.

When the man left the slave fell to his knees. It wouldn't be long now, he thought, waiting before the bed.

He could do this. It was just one night, it wouldn't be so bad. They just wanted to use his mouth. They hadn't said they would do… do anything else.

The slave took a deep breath, trying to memorize what he knew about these people he had to serve, anything that could keep them from being angry.

It seemed as if he had been bought for the man. That was who his master had told him to please, and the man was certainly interested. A captain, the woman said. She had called him that, hadn't she? The slave couldn't remember, not really, but that didn't worry him. Forgetting was nothing new. He'd been much to distracted anyway. 

They were both beautiful and terrifying and that, _that_ was what he needed to remember. That and his orders. Those he at least was sure of.

The slave didn't have permission to speak, just like he didn't have permission to touch. They were short, simple rules so far, ones he should have no problem following and yet he knew he would. 

Not being allowed to touch the man _there_ was… strange, but at least easy enough to obey. The slave figured that was only temporary anyway. When it changed he would know.

Not being allowed to talk, needing to _be quiet,_ that rule was familiar and yet so, so difficult. How could he be good for anyone if he didn't know what they wanted, if he couldn't even ask?

But if they simply wanted an unspeaking slave, then he might be able to comply. If they wanted him completely mute… then there were noises the slave sometimes couldn't help but make. He would gag, or sob, or groan, and that led to punishment. By then the slave didn't know how to stop.

Sometimes he panicked. Sometimes he begged. Sometimes… sometimes he screamed. 

_Please._ Please don't let this couple be like that. To order him silent and then hurt him until he couldn't be, if only so they would have an excuse to hit him some more. 

Clients knew it would cost them extra to mark up a slave, but the kinds of people that wanted that, they didn't care. His master would be mad they hadn't asked first, charge them a few more credits for it, but that didn't matter to the slave. For him it only meant not knowing. That was a special kind of torture. Weather it was better or worse than knowing the pain was coming and being made to wait for it, that he couldn't decide.

At least he man didn't _seem_ to want to hurt him. A moment ago he had even said he wouldn't. Not yet. Neither of them seemed to even want him afraid, the way they shushed him. The man's touches were deliberate, if not gentle, and the woman kept brushing against him, saying things like "you're ok," and "don't worry." In the hall she had kissed him on the cheek, grinning as the man turned away. "He's all bark and no bite," she had whispered. The slave didn't know what that one meant but he was ok with no biting. Teeth could _hurt._

All of those frightening little gestures the pair of them made didn't make any sense to him. It scared him but the slave relished it too, taking what comfort he could even if it was false. He knew better than to trust it. Sometimes he trusted too easily. 

He _used to_ trust too easily. 

"Come on, lets get you cleaned up." The woman entered the bedroom, gesturing for the slave to follow. He didn't move from his place on the floor.

"Master said to stay here," he whispered. 

He was trying to be obedient, he _was,_ but he had conflicting orders now. 

"I'm...I'm not supposed to talk," the slave added, ducking his head, ashamed. He'd already broken that rule enough. When he dared to look up at her again he saw her frown.

_Stupid, stupid._

The woman already knew. She had been there when the man had made that order clear only minutes ago. She already knew and she came here simply to make him disobey. 

_Playing with your food, huh?_ some cynical part of him said. _Rude._

Inside his head he snorted. He knew better than to do it out loud, especially when he had orders not to speak, _especially_ when he had already disobeyed those orders, especially, _especially_ in front this couple. They were different somehow, and not just because there were two of them.

"Captain, can he come out of the bedroom?" the woman shouted, not turning around or pausing in her examination of the slave. 

Yes, a Captain then. That was below an Admiral but above a Lieutenant, above an Ensign, and most definitely above someone like him. A Captain would know how to hurt him plenty. He might even know how to do it without leaving any bruises. The slave shuddered.

He remembered the kindness he'd thought he'd seen in the Captain's eyes before. If he could just _be good_ maybe the man would still be kind. Maybe, _maybe_ he wouldn't hurt the slave so much, wouldn't rip out his hair, or choke him, or get any disgusting, stinging fluids into his eyes.

But the slave had already made the Captain angry, talking and flinching and not knowing what to do. He had already messed things up. They had given him a bit of slack but the slave didn't know how many strikes he had. He didn't know how many they were willing to give.

The man appeared again in the doorway. His hair was ruffled now and he suddenly looked quite different from the collected captain he'd been downstairs. For at least the third time since they had gotten to the room, he sighed. That couldn't be a good sign, the slave thought. The Captain had seemed so pleased with him at the club. 

_Useless._ He was supposed to be making them _happy,_ not annoyed.

"Get him washed. I'll make something to eat." That was all the man said before he turned back around and left.

The slave focused on the woman again, the most immediate threat

Back at the club she had smiled at him, a glint in her eyes like they were sharing secrets, and the slave hoped she wasn't about to punish him. Worse, he hoped she wasn't going to tell the man how he had already disobeyed. Maybe the woman would protect the slave if things started to get rough. Then again, she looked like she might enjoy hurting him if she thought he deserved it. 

He did. Disobedient, broken, pathetic. He was a worthless laserbrained idiot of a slave.

In the 'fresher he scrubbed soapy water up his arms as the woman wiped down his sides. The damp cloth was warm enough that he barely flinched. The pleasure slave sent out a silent thank you towards his temporary mistress. She rinsed out the rag and handed it to him.

"Get you're face too," she said and the slave avoided looking in the mirror.

The women was frighteningly beautiful in a way the slave could never hope to be. He wouldn't fight with her for the man's affections, wouldn't dare try, but the women might not see things that way. She seemed possessive, like she would destroy anyone who dared to touch what was hers. The Captain was hers. 

Fingers tangling in his hair, checking for knots, she acted a bit like the slave was hers too. He didn't know. Maybe she wanted him like the man did? And that was a terrifying thought, one he had no idea how to deal with.

What if he did something wrong? 

He didn't know if he knew how to please her, didn't know if he would get to that point and have any idea what to do. They would be furious then.

And what if she wanted him, but the Captain didn't want to share? Would she use him behind the man's back? The slave would definitely get punished for that. 

Or.. or what if the Captain _did_ want to share? He had said the women would get a turn, hadn't he. The slave remembered that, he was sure of it now, and winced.

There were two of them, what was he supposed to do?

His head hurt even trying to figure it out. How was that going to work? He could imagine the couple together, the two of them kissing and touching. The slave could imagine the Captain using him, the man had said he only wanted the slave's mouth, that was simple. He could even vaguely imagine the woman using him. But them both? At the same time? Was that even _possible?_

"I'll be right back," the woman said and left, apparently to change. When she opened the door again she was wearing warm, comfortable clothes. The slave felt a brief flash of envy, but tamped it down. His clothes were soft and easy to wear, made for dancing. They were plenty comfortable. The girls downstairs given cold, heavy metal chains had it much, much worse.

The woman gave him another once over before turning away. Following her to the kitchen, the slave knelt at her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. It feels as if I wrote a lot of words without really saying anything, but maybe that's just because I already know whats going to happen? I don't know. I think the writing is good but just kind of... empty. Also there isn't a lot of order. At some point every paragraph has been in different places in the chapter. Some that was at the beginning is now at the end, the middle is everywhere, etc. Basically, everything is interchangable and I think that is why I feel so weird about it. I don't know where anything belongs.


	5. Food and Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update to make up up for all my teasing! Also because I finished writing it. :P Got a tiny bit longer than the others, but this is probably my second favorite chapter after _Kisses and Wants_.

Cassian was standing at the stove, frying up something simple and quick. 

"Come here," he said, making a little gesture with his head, eyes soft and warm now. Cooking had always calmed him.

As the slave crawled towards himCaptain Andor held out a piece of meat.

"Is this too spicy, cariño?"

The slave took the offered morsel with his lips, tongue darting out to play along the Captain's fingers, carefully sucking them into his mouth. Swallowing heavily, he chanced a glance at the man. The Captain just quirked his eyebrows up, expectant.

"It is good, sir," the slave said quietly from his place on the floor, unsure if he was truly allowed to speak. He kept his mouth busy licking sauce off the pad of the Captain's thumb, a little apology just in case.

Captain Andor hummed his approval, pulling his hand away to let it slip back into the slave's hair, a gesture that seemed to comfort the boy. It was soft and longer than Cassian was used to, constantly falling into the slave's face. No wonder Rook had worn his tied back. 

Whoever the person kneeling next to him was, they sighed contentedly and relaxed against the Captain's thigh. Cassian guessed the slave was grateful for something to eat, for small kindnessess, and mostly for the fact that any sexual assault seemed to be delayed for a little while longer.

The slave was simply glad that he seemed to have finally done something right. 

"Lets get some food in you, hmm?"

There really wasn't an ounce of fat on him. If Bodhi Rook had seemed thin, this slave was made entirely out of slender muscle, cinnamon skin, and sharp, breakable bone. 

"When did you last eat?"

"This...this afternoon I think?" He looked down. "I don't remember." 

They always ate before the night started, didn't they? 

"I'm sorry sir," he added earnestly, catching the Captain's eyes again. 

Stepping over to the fridge, Cassian got out some vegetables for the stir fry and orange juice for the boy. So he didn't tower over the slave's kneeling form he crouched down, pressing the glass into only slightly trembling hands.

"Drink," Captain Andor said, and the slave did. 

It was just a small sip at first, but then he seemed to realize the extent of his thirst and was gulping the liquid down. 

"Ah. Slow now." 

The slave startled and quickly stopped drinking, juice almost splashing over the sides of the cup. He kept it clutched close to his chest though, worried it might be taken away.

"Don't need you getting yourself sick," Cassian added affectionately, fingers light on the slave's arm.

The boy sloppily wiped juice off his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry. Sorry Master."

"Mm, no, not Master," replied Captain Andor, still at eye level. "It is Captain, do you understand?" 

"Yes, yes sir," the slave nodded eagerly. "Yes Captain, I understand." 

"Good." 

With that Cassian stood and turned back to the stove, satisfied. He poured a bag of frozen vegetables into the hot pan, which sizzled loudly at the sudden change in temperature.

Relaxing again, the slave griped the half full glass in his hands, taking delicate sips every now and then. While Cassian finished frying the food the slave knelt at his feet and Jyn studied the two of them from the table. 

Cassian had told her to leave the questions to him and she had grudgingly agreed. Privately she could admit that she'd never been that good at interrogations anyway. She tended to get angry or give something away. While her blood ran hot, the Captain could be as cold as a dead star when he wanted to be.

Once he finished preparing the meal, Cassian grabbed plates and headed back to the table. The slave didn't crawl this time, instead he rose gracefully to his feet, carrying his drink and the silverware he'd been given. This time, when he fell back to his knees it was close to the Captain. 

Captain Andor noticed this boy didn't have the perfect form of a pleasure slave, his back slouched a bit. If this wasn't Rook, the slave should have been trained, maybe even bred for this. Even if he was new to the owner it would be rare to break in a pleasure slave this old.

Thinking back to the pilot's file, Captain Andor would have also guessed that any Imperial would have his shoulders back, spine straight and proper even if he was on his knees.

While Cassian scooped food onto his and Jyn's plates, he considered whether or not the pleasure slave would eat off one. He doubted the boy would be comfortable with it, not in the company of people he considered to be his masters. At least he hadn't seemed to be embarrassed, taking food from the Captain's fingers. All that was to say nothing about the fact that he would be trying to balance a plate on his legs while still sitting on the floor. Thinking about how the slave had leaned into him after tasting the food, Captain Andor made up his mind. He handed the slave a bite to eat.

Jyn scowled but Cassian ignored her. It was kinder this way, really. This wasn't an interrogation of an enemy combatant, at least not yet. This was simply them asking questions. They could try to do this in a way where the slave felt somewhat safe. If that was on his knees than so be it.

"How are you feeling now?" Captain Andor started with, trying to gauge how the rest of this might go.

The slave seemed to genuinely consider the question, thinking about it for far longer than seemed necessary.

"I'm fine, sir," was all he eventually settled on.

The Captain ate for a minute, occasionally feeding the slave little pieces of food. Gradually the slave relaxed.

"Have you been with this master long?" Captain Andor asked now.

"No sir. Not long." The answer came easier this time.

"So you had masters before this one," he stated. The fact that the pleasure slave was new here could easily be a coincidence.

I…there were…f-four? Five?" 

The slave remembered one with long white hair who he thought might have been first. One short and pink skinned, then another who had to wear something on his face in order to breath. Or maybe there were two like that? There were a few others he remembered briefly following the orders of, so he added, 

"Maybe more sir. I-I'm not sure." 

Four or five was a pretty high number, Jyn thought. This couldn't be their pilot, not if this person had grown up under that many masters. They would have to bring him back down to the club the next day, leave him to this horrible fate.

"You have always been a slave then?" Captain Andor continued casually. 

"I don't think so sir," but maybe he _had_ always been a slave. It _felt_ like forever. Maybe all the rest really was just dreams in his broken head. 

He wanted to tell them more, tell them about his mother, his sister. He wanted to hear the words outloud, for _someone else_ to hear them, as if that would make them real. But he had only just regained permission to speak. It was not something he was going to waste on frivolous things.

Captain Andor had to admit, the resemblance to Rook was there. Still, they had to be sure. He supposed that at this point he might as well just come out and ask.

"Do you have a name?" 

The slave was quiet, chewing on his lip. He shifted on his knees as if he didn't want to answer and a million thoughts ran through Captain Andor's head. Maybe this was Bodhi Rook and he knew who they were, knew why they were here. Was he still a trap? Was he about to run? Maybe this was a spy, a look-alike sent to deceive them? Or maybe it was still the pilot, but he had bailed out after Jedha like they had thought before. The message, if it had ever existed, was simply bait, a ruse. He'd gotten in this mess all on his own, without the help of the Partisans, fleeing from the Empire and Alliance alike. 

Then... maybe this was just a slave. Cassian wondered if the question was cruel. Sometimes names were secret, sacred, especially to someone who had nothing else.

"What do they call you?" he amended after a minute, waving towards where the club was a few floors below them. "Downstairs."

"P-pretty boy mostly." Wondering if the man wanted the whole variety, the pleasure slave paused.

If they wanted some demeaning word to call him, couldn't they just come up with it on their own? 

"...Pet, slave," he added, growing quieter. "...b-bitch... slut." 

Why did they have to make him say it?

"V-virgin wh-whore," he finished, his voice barely a whisper. 

"Hush." A hand on the slave's shoulder made him jump. Captain Andor offered him a piece of broccoli. "Here." 

The slave took it, chewing slowly. His expression seemed oddly more confused than upset. 

"None of those are my name though, are they?" 

"No. No, those are not names," Cassian replied and hated the universe a little more. The fact that the slave didn't know, had to _ask_ that question… something was certainly wrong.

The slave managed to look almost thoughtful, swallowing another vegetable. He didn't seem at all wary of meeting the Captain's eyes anymore. 

"Do you know my name?" he asked, curious.

Instead of an answer, Captain Andor gave him a bite of meat.

"What about before this? Before you were here?" Jyn asked. "What did people call you then?" 

"Before..." The slave was deep in thought now, brow furrowed, concentration focused inward, not on the carrot in the Captain's fingers.

It was worrying to say the least, how completely unfazed this slave seemed by his own lack of memory. 

"Do you remember a place before this one?" Cassian added, setting the bite of food aside. 

There was a long pause, a slow nod.

"Pilot..." 

He looked up, dazed. 

"They called me the pilot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I ever finish them, HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING for the next two chapters. Like _damn_ are they intense. Definitely hard to write, but in a different way than _Golden Dancing_ was. I will put trigger warnings at the start of each chapter as well, just so everyone is prepared and informed. 
> 
> Thx for all the encouragement! 
> 
> Oh! Also the Spanish. Not sure if chiquito was exactly the right word here? I had it as carino for awhile but all the translations for that seemed to be "dear" or "darling" and that seemed too intimate. Also in America I for one have only ever heard those words from old grandmotherly types. So... not Cassian.


End file.
